Sweet Dreams, if I have time later
by stressisnofun
Summary: What is a sleep deprived Bella Swan supposed to do about the Residents who won't stop bothering her, the sleep she isn't getting, Sheppard's therapy needs, and not to mention the new neuro intern with a delusional girlfriend? Only time will tell...
1. I hate, you Mr Robinson

Bella POV

I hate my stupid, cheap apartment here in Seattle. It's always loud, so I can barely sleep most nights, and it's usually bright. I'm an intern at Seattle Grace Hospital. My annoying Resident is constantly keeping me on call. Why do I even bother leaving the hospital? I only sleep every so often at home. If he wasn't an amazing doctor, I would make my ex-gang member of a neighbor take him out. Stupid Carlisle and his surgical perfection. It's so annoying how he's always sipping coffee, but his teeth are perfectly white. As strange as this sounds, when he's around, I dread the OR. I chug one of the massive Super America coffees in my fridge. I don't even want to know how old it is. Stupid Charlie. Telling me I should go into the Medical field. Yeah, well who's sleep deprived now? Me. I'm tired, but I can't let it show. In a couple months, I'll be done doing the worst work here. I'll be moving up. Did I forget to mention, when Carlisle isn't harping, Dr. Sheppard won't shut up about his issues with Meredith and the She Sheppard. Do I look like a therapist? No. I look like a tired intern who is so tempted to carry around a scalpel so she can stab the stupid ones. . .

Here at Seattle Grace, every one is so nice. Even Evil Spawn. He's not so evil anymore, though. I feel sorry that Dr. Bailey's other interns aren't done with the program yet. Especially Izzy, after Denny I felt so terrible. It wasn't her fault. No ones fault, actually. But, I'm moving ahead in the world. I'm ready to crush some intern soul. Not like I want to make people sad, I'm _so_ done being crap here.

Ah, yes, the She Sheppard, here to make me look after all her super pregnant patients, while she flits from OR to OR, changing lives. Well, I should give her more credit. It's the most likely fermented coffee talking, honest. Here she comes, oh, but not if Car-weasel gets to me first. I'm like a pathetic little wildebeest being chased by two doctor-lions.

"Swan," Carlisle taps me on the shoulder as I try to walk away from both of them. "I'd like you to do labs. Before you do labs, I want you to do rounds down this hallway.

"You know that it's 3:30 in the morning, right?"

"Fine then, do rounds, then you can have the rest of the day off."

"Thanks, I think." I say, reluctant to show my boundless appreciation.

"You're gonna go home and sleep. Right?" he says reassuringly.

"No," I say sarcastically, "I'm gonna go to a club, get smashed and sleep with some random guy, then get Ciph like O' Malley."

"Hey, I'm right here, and it wasn't a one-night-stand. I was going out with Olivia!" George defended himself. Poor George, my punching bag. Only when the coffee talks, though.

"I only meant the Ciph part, George."

"Oh." he said, flatly.

I hate rounds desperately. I really do hate them with a passion. Let's see, what's on the docket for today? First on the list is Room 2367. Fantastic, that means I have to deal with Mr. Robertson, I'm really surprised he's not dead yet, or maybe I'm surprised the nurses haven't 'accidentally to give him his pills'.

"Mr. Robinson?" I knock on the door frame, the door is already open, but it's out of respect. Great. One thing I've learned while sittin' at the bottom of the food chain.

"Whadda you want from me? I'm sick of all you phonies knockin' on the door frame an' actin' all nice and crap." The rotten little slime yelled from his bed.

_You better watch out or you'll end up in the ICU with an unstable pulse and an IV stuck up your…_

"Hello, Ms Swan. I trust you're getting your work done as, assigned." Car-weasel smiled patronizingly, then sipped his stupid coffee.

_You can share a bed with Mr. Robinson in the ICU. Whaddya say, weasel face?_ I thought quite angrily, but plastered a fake smile on my face and said, "Of course."

"Bella, you look awful. I've reconsidered. Take the rest of the day off. You need to rest up. I want you to scrub in on a very important surgery tomorrow.

_Is it the one where we take the scalpel out of your cold, shriveling heart?_

"Thank you so much, doctor. This means so much to me."

"Off you go. I'm very busy today."

As I walked out of Room 2367, I heard a voice from behind me.

"Bella, do you have a minute? You see, Meredith is sending me mixed signals an I was wondering if you could help me out a little." It was clear now, it was Derek. Who else wanted to talk to me about Meredith every second possible? He walked faster, trying to catch up with me. I didn't turn around, though. I could hear the speed in the clicking of his shoes. "Hey, Bella? Did you hear me?"

"Sorry doctor Sheppard, I've been dismissed for the rest of the day, and I need to catch up on my sleep. Doctor Cullen wants me in on an important surgery." I said, walking quickly so I could get away from him faster than I'd usually need to.

"But Bella!" he said desperately.

"Look." I said turning around abruptly, which stopped him in his tracks. "It's very out of line for me to say this, but it's Thursday, and I've only slept ten hours since _Monday_. I need to go. I don't have time to talk to you about your stupid little issues."

"Okay." He said, shrugging off my firm words. "Sorry for bugging you." And with that I left the hospital, then went back to my ever freezing cold apartment.


	2. Why are you here?

The door opened with a creak, and I carefully extracted the key from the lock, then carelessly threw the key onto the kitchen table. I sat down on my mattress, the only thing I owned that wasn't a total piece of crap. This is the life.... Then I laughed at myself. This way of living was hardly 'the life'. It was barely a life at all. And in the middle of it all was me. Thinking that laying down on a mattress in my loser apartment was the way to live. Some reality check this was.

Deciding I was hungry, I got up off my bed and looked in the fridge. What was there to eat? A jar of moldy pickles? No. Fish sauce? No. That stuff that sits in the back of the fridge rotting, but I never feel like throwing out, even though I'm sure it can breathe, and take car of itself? Definitely not. To the cabinets, then. Let's see what we have here.... Hamburger Helper. Pfft, like I ever had time to buy _hamburger_. Canned soup? Too lazy to cook it. I'd probably set the apartment complex on fire. I don't trust my stove, it needed to be replaced, but the landlord is lazy, just like me. It's a wonder this place hasn't been shut down yet.

That settles it. To the cafe.

The pleasant smell of waffles and coffee wafted around, as usual.

"Dahlin', yawr' heah' ev'ry nigh' an' ev'ry day. Don' 'ya evah' cook fawr' yah'self?" Marilyn, the waitress with a thick accent asked, a little rudely, if I do say so myself.

"Um, I don't really have the time." I frowned, a little embarrassed.

"Well that's alrigh', deah'. We'll cook fawr' yah'."

"Thanks, Marilyn. I'll take the usual."

As she walked off to go place my order, I looked around, casually sifting through all the wall decorations, that seemed to have been on the fading, beigy colored walls for as long as I could remember. It seemed like this place was my home away from home. My personal little sanctuary. Not for long though. As soon as I had started to relax, I saw Car-weasel walk in with a guy who looked near-ish to my age but shockingly like the weasel. They sat down, and I watched them, trying not to be obvious. Fortunately enough, they didn't seem to see me.

Marilyn placed a plate with a small pancake, a few eggs with pepper on them, and a large dish of fresh fruit on the table in front of me, followed by a smaller plate with three slices of crispy bacon. As I ate, I noticed Car-weasel and son never ordered anything, or even made an attempt at getting some sort of service. Why on earth would you go into a restaurant and not eat? Not that it matters. Like I care about the weasel's issues. Why would I even be thinking about stuff like that. I spend my whole day trying to avoid him, then during my time off am obsessing over why he's not ordering anything. This is so wrong. I need my own life.


	3. Everyone Needs a Someone

I could hardly sleep that night. Something was wrong about Car-weasel and that man, his son. I'd heard him say it as I left. Those two were so suspicious! They didn't order anything at the cafe, they were perfect, and never seemed to sleep.

_What the hell, Bella? These things aren't related. At all._ I told myself. I needed some sleep medication. As I drifted into the cloud that was sleep and let my body go for the night, a thought danced through my mind. _Car-weasel's son is pretty hot._ That thought was my focus next morning. I doubted that I'd even thought it, but if it was true, I couldn't deny the fact my subconscious was absolutely, one hundred percent correct. Scary.

I drove to Seattle Grace alone that day. Just like every other day. I was starting to get sick of the lack of companionship I was suffering. _Everyone needs a someone._ I thought to myself. Now was not the time for thoughts, though. Now was the time for actions. Actions like cutting people open and swapping their organs out. It was going to be a lovely day.

Car-weasel's son walked briskly past me. I smiled, but it wasn't well received. What had I done? I heard a shrill voice buzzing, whizzing towards me.

"Eddiekins! You _love_ me!" she screeched. I wondered if she was a Psych Ward escapee. I wouldn't rule it out.

"Tanya, please go. You aren't supposed to be here." he said smoothly.

Car-weasel's son had a beautiful voice, one that almost betrayed his distinguished appearance, but not quite. It was the level of surprise that was awkwardly alluring. I desperately hoped this was a good thing, because if it wasn't, I was totally screwed.

Hey! Guess what? I'm actually going to update this story because it's the only one people read. :D

People read, but they don't review. Maybe...maybe you should... It would kind of 100% make my day.


	4. Crash Cart

Guys, I know you're reading this. Please, review. Make my life. I have received a total of one review on my entire story.

~o~o~

I followed Weasel's son and the escapee down the hall, trying to be as subtle as possible. So far, so good. I looked over the files on doors to stay a few feet behind. They shuffled into a linen room. I waited, counting to ten in my head, then I raced to the door and pressed myself close. I waited to hear moans and giggles—the sounds most common when people were in rooms like these. They were secluded and not commonly visited.

Nothing, good.

"Tanya. I told you to go."

"Edward Cullen, we were in _love_ just weeks ago." the woman droned.

"_'W__ere'_ being the key word here. You have to get out."

"Have I been replaced, Eddiekins?"

"Please don't call me that." I could hear the disgust in his voice. It shook me, but Tanya sounded unfazed.

"I said, have I been replaced?"

"No, I'm leaving now. I suggest you do the same."

Shit. I had to go, and fast. Unfortunately, someone had a brain shortage and parked a crash cart in front of the door. I turned quickly, pretending to straighten the bedsheets. I heard the door swing open, then I felt Edward careen into me. His body was strong, but so gentle. I was a little confused as to how that was even possible. He was like Starburst candies—a contradiction.

"Oh!" I gasped, turning. "Sorry. I didn't think anyone was in there so I thought I'd stop here and fix the sheets before putting this in its place."

"I'd appreciate if you would move." he said calmly.

"That's no way to talk to a lady, even if you are Doctor Cullen's son!"

"How did you kn—never mind. I suppose word travels faster than I'd have thought. To whom shall I apologize, then?"

"Miss Bella Swan." I said, standing up tall and making eye contact.

"I'm sorry for my rudeness, Miss Swan."

"I accept your apology, Mister Cullen."

"Hmpf!" Tanya exclaimed, then squeezed past Edward and pushed the crash cart away and into an elderly woman who was walking back from physical therapy following a hip surgery. I knew. She was one of my patients.

"Mrs. Ellowitz!" I said, heart pounding. I knew her condition wasn't the best. I swooped down, leaning over her. "Can you hear me?"

No response. I checked her pulse. It was weak, but present.

"What can I do to help?" Edward said, kneeling next to me.

"Help me get her on the crash cart. This was a bad fall and she didn't have a lot going for her in the first place. Her surgery went poorly and she has a severe case of osteoporosis, coupled with inner ear problems, so her balance is shot! A fall would mean an unbelievable setback for her." I took a sharp breath, trying to calm my frenzied mind. "Edward, did you see what happened? You did have a better vantage point."

"Tanya pushed the cart. The force of impact pushed Mrs. Ellowitz here into the wall, then she fell due to the lack of time she had to react." he said, while lifting her frail frame into the crash cart.

"We need her stats. Soon." I barked. "I'm going to get her file and let your father know."

"Gotcha. I'll take her to X-Ray 5, okay?"

"Alright. We'll meet up again soon. Chances are we'll have to run an MRI to check for internal bleeding."

"Yeah. Hey, good work, Bella." he added, walking to X-Ray 5.

"Thanks." I smiled, trying not to blush. Blushing was one of my stupid nervous tendencies.

I paged Carlisle, and filled him in as we walked to X-Ray 5.

"So you're telling me this lady is still running around the hospital?"

"Oh, no. Igor the male nurse 'escorted' her out."

"That's good. You did really well. I'm impressed. You want in on my heart transplant surgery next week? I'll let you do a lot of the cutting. Patient is 27 year old male with a genetic heart deformity. They finally found a match for him."

"I'd love to Doctor Cullen!" I grinned.

~o~o~

Love it? Hate it? Tell me, review. :) Please? I'm very sad. Last chapter I got ZERO reviews.

I don't want to be the author that begs and begs for reviews, but...well...I'll stop when someone reviews.

I'll make you e-cookies with the warm fuzzy feelings. :D


	5. Free Afternoon

Sorry this chapter took so long. I got a little lazy.

~o~o~

Today was an overall success. I got in on a heart surgery, and Mrs. Ellowitz was almost perfectly fine, just a little shaken up. The rest of the day was my own. I could do whatever I wanted. I didn't have to answer to anyone. There are some days where you just feel like a pro at life.

I waved to Carlisle on me way out of the hospital.

"Swan!" a voice spat.

There goes my afternoon. I just know it.

"I need your help." She-Sheppard hissed.

"You hate me. Why would you want my help?"

"I need you to pick up some groceries for me."

"I didn't know vampires ate. I thought they were just cruel bloodsuckers."

From the corner of my eye, I caught Carlisle snicker. The she-witch shot him a dirty look and he quickly excused himself from the area.

"Don't get smart with me, Swan. Here's a hundred dollar bill and my grocery list. Keep the extra money, but give me the receipt."

"Why me?" I groaned, hoping no one would hear.

"Because you're accountable."

"Am I now?" I said with a sly grin.

"Yes. Now get out of my sight, and don't come back until you have my groceries."

"Fine. Maybe I will."

As I trudged through the parking lot, I considered what a good deal this was. I was given a hundred bucks, and three things to buy. Sweet deal. I could turn quite a profit doing this. As I started my car, I considered my life in the past few weeks. Mostly thinking about Weasel's son. He was strangely alluring. The more I thought about it, there wasn't really one thing that stood out as enticing, but that could be because I hadn't given it much thought. I zoned out as I neared the intersection. There was so much oozing through my mind. A loud squealing of brakes brought me back to the real world.

"What the fuck's your problem? Learn to drive, bitch! I got my kid in the back seat." a man shouted from his window.

"Then maybe you should set a better example with your language." I retorted, then sped away. That was close. "Stay focused, Bells. You almost got in a nasty crash there." I whispered to myself. It was comforting to use the nickname my mom used. Reminders of home always de-stress me. I kept that thought in the back of my mind as I neared the grocery store. There's no place like home.

I found a spot in the parking lot that was thankfully somewhat near the doors. Walking is for the birds. Then I took a second to peer over the list. Milk, toothpaste, organic lettuce. Everything was going to be pretty much under ten dollars. I picked up the toothpaste first, choosing cinnamon with micro whitestrips, as requested. Next was the lettuce, then milk. 1.5 liters of gently pasteurized, organic whole milk. Damn she was picky. Most days I just got the sale milk at the gas station that expired days ago. This milk was _eight whole dollars_.

"Some of us like to keep the bar low, she-witch." I hissed under my breath. I meandered toward the checkout and paid for all the stuff and made it out of there with 85 dollars to spare. Not a bad day. I had the rest of my afternoon and 85 free dollars. Cool.


End file.
